Page 24 of Kentrell

If I hadn’t already been holding my breath, I might’ve fainted on the spot.

“Oh,bitch—what did he sayyy?” Stacia’s voice rang out at an ear-splitting pitch as Ayesha yanked me back into the bathroom like she was trying to rescue me from myself.

“Bump what he said—go after him and take his asshome!” Mars hollered, trying to shove me back toward the door while Ayesha and Stacia doubled over in laughter.

“He’s yourone-night stand!”

“No one is myone-night stand, Mars.” I lowered my voice in a panic, eyes darting toward the door. “I only said that because I wasdrunk.”

“Drunk confessions are hidden truths,” Ayesha sang, already plotting my scandalous downfall.

“Oh, really? What happened to Lil’ MissProceed with Caution?” I snapped, throwing a pointed look her way. “Weren’tyoujust warning me about the Caldwells and the streets?”

“Bitch,thatwas before his smooth ass strutted in here and swept you off your feet!” Ayesha hollered, throwing a high five at Mars. “To hell with caution!”

“Drop them draws and bend it over for arealone,” Mars cackled.

“Oh,brother!” I groaned, folding under the weight of their chaos.

They were clucking like hens over a man they didn’t evenknow.

But me?

I wastemptedto do exactly what Mars suggested—and that scared the hell out of me.

Not as much as the reality that hit next.

“He’s coming to my office tomorrow,” I blurted, the weight of it sinking into my bones.

“And I’m going to make sure you look the part, too!” Mars declared, eyes gleaming like a stylist who’d just discovered a makeover montage was on the horizon.

“No, Mars.Please.”

“Too late! I already have the perfect outfit in mind!” She beamed, linking arms with me like I’d just agreed to marry into the Caldwell family. “Ican’t believeour baby is gonna get laid!”

“No, I’mnot!” I shot back, digging my heels into the tile—figuratively and literally.

Mr. Caldwell would be a client.Nothing more.

And as soon as I could find someone—anyone—at the firm to pawn him off on, he’d no longer be my responsibility.

Yes.

That was the plan.

A clean, simple,professionalexit strategy.

So why did it already feel like a lie?

THREE

KENTRELL

From the penthouseof Lakeview Towers, I stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, blinds drawn back, feeling the sun’s warmth sear against my skin and eyelids, a stark contrast to the icy tendrils of wind that clawed at the streets of Chicago below. I reveled in the golden glow that enveloped me like a warm blanket, a fleeting refuge from the impending chill expected this coming November.

Outside, the biting air swept through the city with a fierce urgency, its crispness gnawing at exposed skin and urging everyone to bundle up. We’d already experienced three flurries, with more snow expected on Halloween night. I couldn’t help but think that if I were still a kid, I'd be miserable—especially out south, where black parents didn't mess with the cold and would never risk a flu outbreak over a few pieces of candy.

A smirk creased my lips as I released a deep breath. My thoughts turned to my baby brother's event—a success evidenced by the pride that beamed from my face. Baby Sei had many talents, but it was his clothing line that truly anchored him in this competitive world. I remember nights when I wouldn'tsleep, only to find him awake in his room, huddled beside the lamp, sketching on Post-It Notes.

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